


j'adoucis dans tes mains

by eliottamoureux



Series: tumblr drabbles/prompt fills [23]
Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: M/M, a soft n tender night together uwu, kind of hurt/comfort but mostly insomnia/comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:33:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21888985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eliottamoureux/pseuds/eliottamoureux
Summary: Playing with their hair while their head’s in your lap; &I called you at 2am because I need you.or, a late night plea, followed by some tea and a whole lot of tenderness.
Relationships: Eliott Demaury/Lucas Lallemant
Series: tumblr drabbles/prompt fills [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1419991
Comments: 3
Kudos: 164





	j'adoucis dans tes mains

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally a prompt fill for [lauren, light of my life & fic writer extraordinaire, who i would die for, etc. etc.](https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurenswriting/works) and the original fill can be found [on my tumblr here!!](https://eliottamoureux.tumblr.com/post/189795318022/clich%C3%A9-tropes-5-48)
> 
> hope you enjoy, my loves!!

Sometimes, their nights are like this.

It doesn’t happen too often— especially considering they spend the majority of their nights together, these days— but sometimes Eliott will wake up in the middle of the night, check his phone, and see this:

**[01:33— MESSAGE FROM: Lucas 💙🦔]**

_ are you awake right now? can i call you? _

**[01:40— MISSED CALL FROM: Lucas 💙🦔]**

The missed call is from nearly twenty minutes ago. Lucas isn’t the sort to bombard him with messages and calls, even when he needs something. One text and one call is typical for him, in moments like these. Eliott is dialing Lucas’ number without having to think about it, and he already knows the conversation that waits for him on the other end.

“Hello?” Lucas’ voice is far too awake for the time of night, and he knows the kind of night that this will inevitably turn into— the sort where Lucas’ thoughts are keeping him awake, where he refuses to wake any of his roommates, for fear of disturbing them. 

When he calls Eliott, because he’s the only one that he trusts enough. The thought of that makes Eliott feel warm, makes him feel important.

“Hi love,” He says, lets his voice drip with affection, with  _ love.  _ Lucas sighs on the other end, relaxing already— if only a bit— and it makes Eliott smile. “You okay?” The silence that follows on the other end is answer enough. It stretches out between them, tangible, before Lucas speaks.

He remembers when their relationship was still fresh, when the answer to that question was always  _ yes,  _ when they were scared of showing themselves to each other. Now, though, Eliott can hear Lucas take a breath, before saying, “I can’t sleep.”

“Any reason why?” Eliott’s no stranger to Lucas’ insomnia. Some nights it comes with a cause, and others, it comes out of nowhere. In any case, he doesn’t like the thought of Lucas being lonely all night.

“No.” And then, “I don’t know.” Eliott still isn’t sure if tonight is of the former or latter variety. “I wanted to hear your voice, I’m sorry if I woke you up.” Some of the nights that they spend together, when Lucas’ sleeplessness gets the better of him, is some of Eliott’s favourite nights. There’s something about the wee hours of morning that soften everything around them, that slows everything down— Eliott can’t get enough of it, especially when Lucas is curled up at his side. He’s ready to go see him, to keep him company through the night.

“It’s okay.” Keep him company, or better yet— “Do you want to come over?”

“Eliott, it’s two in the morning.” Lucas’ tone is the same as when Eliott waxes poetic about Lucas’ eyes, when he burns his second piece of toast in a row, when he covers him in kisses to keep him from leaving. This time, though, Eliott can sense the slight bit of  _ something  _ underneath his gentle chide, a sort of pleading that he’s more than happy to indulge.

“I know, but if you want me to, I’ll come over, and then we can come back here.” Lucas is silent, on the other end. “That’s what I have a bike for.” This isn’t the first time he’s biked to Lucas’— but it’s certainly the latest.

“Okay.” He hears, quietly, from the other end.

“Okay?”

“If you could, I’d appreciate it.”

“Okay.” “I’ll be over in a bit.”

\---

A little while later, Eliott approaches Lucas’ building. He softens, when he sees him stood just inside the door. He had texted Lucas a few minutes before— a quick ‘ _ almost there! _ ’— and as his bike comes to stop, he’s off it and bringing Lucas into his arms a beat later.

“Hi,” He says, pressing a kiss into Lucas’ hair. “You okay?”

“Hi.” Lucas hugs him back. Eliott can feel Lucas’ fatigue in his shoulders. “Better, now. Since you’re here.” They kiss, quick, before Eliott picks his bike back up again.

“Hop on, let’s go.” Lucas stands on the back, grip firm on his shoulders, and they set off. Eliott goes extra slow, pays an extra amount of attention to Lucas’ grip on him in his tired state. It’s not a long ride, but it takes him a bit longer than usual. At one point, Lucas leans down, and Eliott is concerned for a brief moment, before he feels his lips, gentle on his shoulder. Soon after, they arrive back at his building, and in his apartment. He leans his bike against the wall, and leaves Lucas on the couch.

Lucas runs into nights like these often enough that Eliott’s developed a bit of a protocol:

_ Step one— turn on kettle to make Lucas’ favourite tea. _ Lucas had mentioned it offhandedly one day, when they were at the grocery store. The next day, Eliott had taken a solo trip back, to pick up the specific brand of  _ peppermint sleepytime _ that Lucas had pointed out. He’s now made it enough times for him, that he knows exactly how Lucas takes it: one sugar and a splash of milk.

_ Step two— bring the fluffiest, softest blanket possible onto the couch. Wrap him up, hold him close. _ Which Eliott does, with great care. He sets the mug of tea on the coffee table— as well as another, for himself, right beside it— He holds the blanket out to Lucas, which he takes, a small grateful smile on his face in the low light. He wraps it around himself before laying down, his head gently placed in Eliott’s lap. One of his hands go into Lucas’ hair on instinct, running careful fingers through it gently. Lucas sighs, smiling up at him, and Eliott kisses his softly, because he can’t resist.

“Do you need anything else?” He asks, looking down at him again. The way Lucas returns the gaze— as he usually does— makes Eliott feel full of love. That’s the way Lucas affects him— he fills Eliott with love until there’s no room left for anything else. And he hopes, every single day, that he does the same. 

“No— thank you, Eliott.” In the beginning, during the first few times this had happened, Lucas had insisted that Eliott go back to sleep. Now, though, it’s unspoken between them, that when they sleep, they’ll do it together. “Could we read some more? If you’re in the mood?” Another one of their  _ things,  _ their special activities— Lucas loves being read to. When Lucas told Eliott, it was another thing on the ever-growing mental list that Eliott keeps,  _ reasons why we are soulmates, why the world intended for us to be together _ — because it just so happens that Eliott loves to read aloud.

“Of course,” He says, reaching for the book on the table. “Where were we, do you remember?”

“Time passes,” Lucas says softly, curling a little closer into him. “Seven, I think.” Eliott flips through the pages until he finds it, skimming the previous chapter to see if it jogs his memory, which to his delight, it does.

“Right! Okay,” Eliott grips the book in one hand, playing with Lucas’ hair with the other. “ _ Night after night, summer and winter, the torment of storms, the arrow-like stillness of fine weather, held their court without interference…” _

Not even half an hour has passed when Eliott glances down at Lucas once more, now asleep in his lap. He flips back a few pages, dog-earing the corner. He places the book down on the sofa beside him, and shakes Lucas gently.

“Lucas,” He coos. Lucas only groans softly in response. “ _ Lucas,  _ dearest, hey,” Lucas finally cracks an eye open, squinting up at him. “Let’s go to bed, you’ll hurt your back if you sleep on the couch like this.” Lucas groans again in protest, but sits himself up. Eliott does too, as he stretches out his arms and legs. Lucas stands, swaying sleepily beside him, and so Eliott takes his hand, leading him down the hall and into his bedroom. Lucas immediately settles into bed, and Eliott settles behind him, pulling him close.

“Goodnight, Eliott.” Lucas mumbles. Eliott, smiling, presses a kiss to the nape of his neck. He listens for Lucas’ breathing to slow and even out, the signal of sleep, before letting sleep take him as well.


End file.
